


Bang

by R_Armchair



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Conflation of Sex and Violence, F/M, Instead of rule-of-threes we use fives, Madness, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, Present Tense, Pseudo-Incest, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Armchair/pseuds/R_Armchair
Summary: As the White Violin plays, she picks the first of her siblings to be punished.





	Bang

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to listen, then follow this link to dropbox:  
> [ Mp3 lies here](https://www.dropbox.com/s/1uwxfuo6o9c438a/Bang.mp3?dl=0)
> 
> Otherwise, head on down to the text.

This is what you wanted.  I’m certain of it.  There can’t be any other explanation for why you are unarmed.  Diego- knives, Luther- strength, Allison- gun, Klaus- Ben, You-

You have brought nothing.  Diego may have brought knives to a gun fight, but you have only brought yourself.

Just like the night in my living room.

I listened to your paranoia, craze, fever, fervor and psychosis. “The world is ending.” “The Apocalypse.”  You were a one-man doomsday cult.  Alone.  Even when you were with me.

We could have spent that same night other ways.  Otherwise. Elsewise.  Elsewhere.  Where?

 I’m sure you knew.  You spoke to me gently (one of no-one at that point.) Soon Leonard would replicate.  The poor man’s You.  For brief moments when he and I were together in the dark, I wondered if that would be your face in a matter of years.  Or years ago.  Your smooth, dark hair.  Your earlobes, slightly out but never listening.  Your nose, sharp and eye catching.  Your thick eyebrows, asking questions your mouth wouldn’t dare.  That same mouth, your mouth, tasting of spiked coffee.  He could look like you.  With my eyes closed.  He could sound like you.  When I focused on the rattling heater vent that dispersed warm air into an already sultry room.

He wanted to be one of us.  So did I

wanted him to be you.

Since you wouldn’t.

Even at your core you aren’t you.  A man, a boy, a murderer, a victim, a martyr.

You can’t even get your death right.  Staring at me, like I’m choking you to climax.  Like you want this.

I’ll let you finish, all you have to do is ask.  No more time for games.

No, jumping.  Jumping Rope.  Roping of sound, it enters through your ear canals.  Taking its predestined pathway.  Not like sonar, sonograms, or sonic booms.  My powers slink, twist, snake, turn, and slither through the bones of your ears.  They find your jaw, then your neck.  Winding, wending, warping, weaving, and wrinkling between your ribs as they spiral down your spinal column.  I can hear the pulsing of your nerves.  Your thoughts are as palpable to me as placing your palm to my breast and feeling my heartbeat.

Your heartbeat

is slower than it should be.

You are calmer than the others.

I want to feel it pumping.  With one hand, I’ll hold it firmly.  Squeezing it, waiting for it to throb.  Waiting to feel the In.  The Out.  The In.  And out.  And out.  The liquid flowing, seeping, filling, pooling, and flooding.  I want to rend your body.  Stretching your insides.  Giving you an experience of a lifetime.  Your first time only happens once.

Especially if it is your last.

Your time is up; you’ve wasted all you can.

Wasted on intoxicants.  Like Klaus.  Wasted time.  Like Luther.  Wasted away.  Like Allison.  Wasted chances.  Like Diego.  Wasted life.  Like Ben.

I could make this as poetic as you let me.  You read my book, didn’t you?  Carried it with you.  Like a lifeline.  Like the only weapon you’d ever need.    What kind of assassin leaves his gun behind?

There has been enough gunfire in the room.  I know the cadence by heart now.  You won’t pass during my final movement.  Your life’s question.  Your life’s purpose.  “How did it happen?”  “How can I stop it?”  You will never know the answers to these.  You’ll go first, while I shift into second position.  Further still.  Where the music is higher, the fingerings trickier, the distances shorter.  But still out of reach.

You jumped to the stage.  To my side.  Instead of onto me.

In return, I’ll keep you at a distance.  Like you’ve always kept me.

You’ll go first.

I’ll stay behind.

I’ll end whatever this is between us.

Bring you, us, and everything closure.

In one

 

simple

 

 

BANG

**Author's Note:**

> This is the direct result of having a gnarly headache. Worked on this thing to distract myself.


End file.
